Of vice and greed, of right and might

Of the battles fought, the victories won.

The good and the ill that men do,

Then back through the twilight they softly steal

Whispering hope to me and you.

{29}

{29}

THE THISTLE AND THE SHAMROCK.

The thistle soft and downy

Gently swaying to and fro,

Bends low its head to Scotland

With every breeze that blow.

The little shamrock nestles

Within its emerald bed,

And breathes a pray’r to heaven

To renew old glories fled.

{30}

{30}

THE WORLD’S CATHEDRAL.

In the world’s Cathedral with the vast throng,

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